Chapter 96 Chapter 95 The Nagging Jima
“Can you fly for a while and then rest?”
“I can, but…” Jima was filled with resistance at the thought of running to an unfamiliar place and negotiating with high elves. “It might take three days. During that time, without my reconnaissance, what if the team gets surrounded by ratmen? And there’s the trust issue; I’m a demon after all, and I’m borrowing a dragon.”
“The dragon and high elves are allies. Even if Frostleaf’s real parents agree to trust me, will the dragon trust me? Will their elven political enemies take the opportunity to hinder us? After resolving all of this, will we still have time?”
George frowned tightly. “I was thinking too simply. I’ve decided that we need to find a way to get to the Dragon City for now.”
“I don’t want to relive the past.”
George said, “A tragedy that I don’t want to see repeated. I wonder how my student Daggie is doing, along with his sister and the village elders. What has become of them?”
Jima asked, “Who is Daggie?”
George glanced at her. “That pair of siblings you saved. You actually don’t remember their names?”
“Not related by blood, so what’s the point of remembering?” Jima said in elvish. “What I mean is, let’s not do anything foolish again, putting in effort to save people. No matter how tough the dwarves of Dragon City are, even if the city might fall in the next moment, we must resolutely leave, alright?”
“We’ll see.”
Jima replied, “Well, I will vote against it no matter what, unfortunately, my vote is insignificant.”
Jenna, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “I’ve healed all the injured. Are we ready to set off now?”
George looked at his exposed shoulder. “No, we need to rest in place.”
Afterward, Jima opened the entrance to the Dream Palace to begin resting.
She took out a set of blacksmith tools and asked the dwarves for help repairing George’s armor. George then took out the prepared plate armor pieces to replace his damaged ones, turning his originally Gothic plate armor into a mixed style.
The dwarves sighed as they watched, lamenting the loss of such a finely crafted master-level armor.
Jima and the other two women took a nice bath. Although getting clean didn’t really match the long adventure ahead, having the conditions to take a bath was still nice.
After all the various tasks were taken care of, it was approaching noon.
Jima rolled out the dining cart and called everyone for lunch. Ideally, the team leader George should have issued the command to set off himself.
He grasped the sword hilt but hesitated.
Just as Jima began to wonder whether the Eternal Chosen Marus had left an indelible psychological shadow on the proud George, he turned around and said, “Everyone, I’ve just been recalling my sword duel with Marus, and I have an idea…”
Poor George, having never met an opponent throughout his life, must be very disheartened to be defeated in his prideful swordsmanship. Hehe, look who’s in a tough spot now.
Should I tell him that ‘the river turns every thirty years’ or compliment him for doing well enough?
While Jima was contemplating how to comfort George to gain some advantage, he continued, “…He perfectly countered my sword moves multiple times. He can’t possibly have the ability to foresee the future, can he?”
Jima’s expression twitched, and she stood on her toes to scrutinize George’s face. He was serious and nonchalant, as if stating that one plus one equals two—so natural and certain.
I really underestimated George’s pride; it’s simply shamelessly lofty.
Jima found herself at a loss for words.
George asked, “What do you all think?”
“I agree,” Jenna raised her hand.
Jima glanced at Jenna, pondering: what does it mean that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’?
Jenna corrected herself seriously: “Eternal Chosen Marus clearly has never fought with you. At the start of the battle, he completely ignored your Sacred Slash, clearly believing you couldn’t harm him.”
George said, “I feel the same way.”
Eve Frostleaf lowered her head in thought nearby, and Jima looked at her expectantly, hoping she would deliver a cutting remark to puncture George’s pride.
She nodded. “A bit.”
Tsk, she must have had a fit.
Jima declared: “I oppose. George, you should accept a fact. Your swordsmanship was comprehensively defeated by Marus. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Think about Demon King Gima, who honed his martial skills over three centuries of slaughter. When facing you, he wouldn’t need to draw a second sword before his enemies lay defeated.
“Looking at it this way, don’t you feel a lot lighter?”
George nodded. “You make a valid point, but I feel he can foresee the future.”
“That’s too terrifying,” Jima said. “What if I do a divination?”
“With such a disparity in power, can you succeed?”
“I might as well give it a try. Theoretically, there’s a very small chance of success.” Jima replied. “Regardless, it’s better than believing in an unreliable feeling.”
George agreed.
Jima brought over a basin of clear water, lit a candle in the dim underground cave, and began the divination.
She grabbed a bunch of lavender, and the lavender began to smoke, wafting over the water basin as she said, “Promise me that if the divination yields no result, don’t assume that the prophecy will foresee the future.”
“Jima,” Jenna said. “I feel like you’re a bit…”
“A bit what?”
“Defending Demon King Gima?” Jenna said. “I’m just asking; don’t take it to heart.”
Jima’s complexion changed. She said solemnly: “Defend? Demon King Gima is incredibly evil; he is a lecher, a thief, a butcher, a slaver, with no chance for redemption. His death was deserved! His death is a blessing for the innocent victims. At the same time, I am very grateful to George for pulling me out of the demon king’s palace.”
As she spoke, her chest ached slightly.
Jenna smiled apologetically and said, “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about; it was just a misunderstanding.” Jima felt increasingly that she must have said something significant when she lost control yesterday.
Jenna was blushing, clearly unable to contain her urge to probe, then feeling guilty afterward. I can see through this naïve thought process clearly.
She said, “I just don’t want to see George deceiving himself.”
George nodded. “I promise you.”
At that moment, a vortex appeared in the water basin, and Jima addressed the basin:
“Can the Eternal Chosen Marus foresee the future at all times?”
The water exploded, divination failed.
Jima turned her head and said, “Alright, let’s not assume that the Eternal Chosen can foresee the future—”
Before she finished speaking, the falling droplets of water transformed into blue bird feathers, each emitting a colorful glow.
George and Jenna’s expressions changed, and George drew his sword, saying, “Master of Deception!”
No one expected that such an ordinary divination would attract the attention of the Master of Deception.
Amid the feathers, a bird song rang out, weaving into clear common speech.
“The Eternal Chosen can foresee the future at all times with the third eye on his forehead, at least six seconds ahead. When needed, he can foresee further.”
Afterward, all the feathers lost their light, and the power of the Master of Deception faded away.
Several feathers landed in Jima’s black hair. She blew off a feather from her shoulder, reluctantly accepting this fact.
The one facing setbacks and blows was only herself. This feeling of having and losing was like sitting at the bottom of a well, only to find an enemy was locked inside with her. Before she could say, “Hey, you also came in?”
When the prison door opened, the jailer said, “I’m sorry, wrong prison. You are released without charge, sir.”
Once the prison door closed, only she remained, alone in the cell.
“The Master of Deception must be quite bored,” Jima said. “He ought to consume more of the Blood God’s axe.”
“Is he worth believing?”
“Although theoretically, he can bypass your lie-detecting ability,” Jima replied. “But this kind of divination hitting the jackpot and encountering the Master of Deception’s blessing is definitely correct.”
“Why would he reveal the secrets of his Chosen Ones?”
“The ones who kill the most of the Master of Deception’s Chosen Ones are precisely the Master of Deception themselves,” Jima said. “He is the god who enjoys change.”
“Less united than I imagined.”
“The disunity among the Order factions is merely child’s play compared to what happens with the demons.”
The dwarves were still writing in their book of hate, adding a few lines about Eve Frostleaf’s misdeeds.
Jima remarked, “The army of destruction is merely the four gods getting together out of boredom to pursue their own goals, holding their noses to unite. They need a superman who can barely keep all their subordinates together; that superman is the Eternal Chosen.
“So once the Eternal Chosen dies, the army of destruction will fall apart, fighting among themselves, even if the Order faction is about to be destroyed. For example, for the followers of the Blood God, killing an ally is not different from killing someone from an empire, considering the ally is still closer to themselves.
“The Blood God never asks where the blood comes from, nor where the head comes from.”
George said, “You seem quite reflective, having said so much.”
“Because I have an ulterior motive,” Jima replied. “I hope you don’t think I’m a traitor due to the blessings of the Blood God and the Master of Deception, trying to create a massive vortex to destroy the Order faction. Of course, it’s also possible that the Master of Deception is just playing me.”
George said, “I believe you.”
“Alright, I’ve nagged like a mother for long enough,” Jima said. “Dear captain, can we set off now?”
George raised his great sword and said, “Let’s go! Stay alert for reconnaissance.”
“Yes,” came Eve Frostleaf’s reply.
She leapt into the darkness, disappearing silently.
“Then it will be my turn to scout tonight,” Jima flew up, avoiding walking on uneven ground.
George led the way, Jenna took the rear, with seven dwarves and Felix in the middle. The dwarves were carrying mining lamps that emitted light, illuminating little more than the path ahead in the gathering darkness.
Jima looked down and saw the dim yellow light fell on the dwarves’ troubled faces. She quickly noticed a dwarf engineer, bare-chested, with the light reflecting on his soft beard.
Jima flew down and asked, “Hello, do you have an extra mining lamp?”
“Can’t you see in the dark?”
“Sometimes a mining lamp is still needed.”
“I’ll give you one.”
Once the conversation started, Jima took the mining lamp and casually said, “Have you become a butcher?”
The dwarf engineer felt a bit of fondness for Jima and replied, “Yes, I have committed too many sins.”
“Do you want to atone? Welcome glorious death?” Jima smiled, her tone full of temptation. “I can offer you a way as an engineer. Do you want to hear my proposal?”
